Two Faced
by astudyinfic
Summary: Loving someone with a split personality can be a challenge, especially when the two personalities are the world's only consulting detective and the world's only consulting criminal.
1. Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION/PROLOGUE

"Hello, love," John greeted as he returned home from a day at the surgery. It seemed innocuous enough, but the fate of his whole evening rested on the response to those words.

"John, good, you're home. Did you pick up the eyes from Molly?" Sherlock never even looked up from his microscope so he missed John's sigh of relief. He wandered over and pressed a kiss into the top of the detective's head before storing the eyeballs in the refrigerator.

It was so much easier with Sherlock. Generally, there was no need for any pretending , though the day he slipped and said the "other guy's" name had been a challenge. Luckily it was a common enough monikerthat he passed it off as a former lover and thankfully Sherlock accepted that. If he ever slipped and said Sherlock's name with the other guy…John shuddered at the thought.

John assumed that anyone who loved a person with a split personality faced some degree of challenge but he would wager that it was nothing compared to what he dealt with on a daily basis. When the main personality was the world's only consulting detective and the second personality was the detective's arch-enemy who also happened to be the world's only consulting criminal, things could get a bit dicey.

"Fancy a take away tonight?" he asked on returning to the kitchen after changing clothes in the bedroom he shared with Sherlock. He shared the other bedroom with Jim**,** which could get a bit confusing, but such was his life. "There is a new Indian place two blocks over and I hear their chana masala is superb."

Sherlock finally looked at him**,** and smiled. "Whatever you like, John." That was how he knew he was dealing with Sherlock. He didn't do nicknames or terms of endearment. He was always simply "John" to Sherlock. He appreciated that while the two men were very similar in many way**s**, there were easy enough ways to tell them apart.

The evening passed quietly. Following dinner, John crashed on the couch to watch an old Doctor Who episode with Sherlock laying his head in John's lap, thinking over details of their last case, and relaxing under the feel of fingers running through his dark curls. As the episode came to an end, with the Doctor saving the day once more, John noticed Sherlock's breathing is slow and even.

"Come on, love. Let's go to bed." Shaking his shoulder gently, John nudges him from the sleep he claims not to need. Too tired to do much else, Sherlock removes all his clothes but his pants and collapses into bed. John smirks, shaking his head while smiling lovingly at the man, and undresses as well. Putting everything away neatly, as opposed to Sherlock who just leaves the clothing on the floor, he turns back to see his eyes closed and his breathing deep. Approaching the bed, an arm raises up, invitingly lifting the blanket, under which John climbs happily, falling asleep in his lover's arms.

The next morning finds John curled around the lanky body next to him, practically purring as long fingers run through his short, sandy hair.

"Good morning, love," he murmurs, burrowing his face deeper into the long neck, pressing sleepy kisses on the skin.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, my pet?" comes the voice he knows so well, yet still manages to seem so different every time this happens.

"Quit the theatrics and just ask, Jim," he growls, knowing that playing games is never going to get him very far, but at the same time continuing to press the kisses along collarbone and shoulder.

Jim rolls on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. "Why, my dear, are we sleeping downstairs? Have you done something to my bed again?"

Sighing dramatically, John looked up at him. "I guess you were bound to find out about the eyeballs eventually." Running his hands up his back, John tugged him down for a rather brutal kiss, nipping at his lips and tongue. "I don't know why I try to hide anything from you."

"Oh, pet, you don't have to hide those from me. I don't know where you get them from, and it's probably best that I don't, but the fact that you bring home body parts, well, let's just say it is one of my favorite things about you."

"And the fact that I am a crack shot, of course, as nothing to do with it?" John asked, rolling them over so this time he pinned the deranged mastermind to the bed. Since becoming lovers with the man, he had managed to stop his most heinous plans, primarily by distracting him with sex or target practice.

Jim grinned, "My, my, my ,Johnny boy, you are aggressive today aren't you? But Daddy is not in the mood. We're going out. A film, perhaps?"

One of the perks of being with Jim was that he actually enjoyed pop culture, where Sherlock just deleted it, so John was thrilled to finally be able to see Avengers. It had been weeks since Jim had last appeared, and Sherlock was starting to get concerned that perhaps Moriarty was planning something big since things had been so quiet on the crime front.

"Did you enjoy the film my pet?" Jim asked as they left the theatre. "Loki was by far the best character on the screen, do you not agree?"

"To be honest, I quite liked the Hulk. There's something attractive about a mild mannered man who can turn into a rage machine at a moment's notice." John often wondered if somehow Jim and Sherlock knew that they shared the same body. Neither ever commented on the missing blocks of time from their lives, so perhaps, somewhere in there, they just sat back and let the other take control for awhile. Or maybe not. He had no idea how to even ask the question.

"Ooh, should I be jealous?" Jim lilted. "As long as it wasn't that Tony Stark. Too much like Sherlock. Both intelligent. Both beautiful. Both sickeningly attached to saving the miserable ordinary people."

John rolled his eyes. "You don't even know what Sherlock looks like. He could be hideously deformed for all you know. And you know, I only have eyes for you, love. Should I be jealous that you think Stark is beautiful?"

"He doesn't hold a candle to you, my dear. You're eyes are like a copper fire. If I ever get my hands on Sherlock Holmes, I will use that flame to burn him." Jim's hand tightened around John's as he spoke. "Would you like me to make him into shoes for you, my pet?"

"I can't imagine Sherlock shoes would be very comfortable. But don't worry, dear, if I ever see him, I promise to get my hands on him for you." All over him, John supplied silently, as they headed for home.

_By popular demand, I have decided to make this a series. It will probably just be a series of one shot looks into John's life with the two men who occupy Sherlock's body and John's heart. I'm so glad everyone liked it! It was fun to write and I'm happy to be delving more into John's world. -J_


	2. Chapter 2

"But Tigerrrr…" Jim whined, causing John's teeth to go on edge, "I just want to kill one little person. Please? You haven't let me kill someone in so long!"

John had been stuck with Jim for over a week, the longest period ever. And while he loved Jim dearly, the man was getting bored and if there is one thing John knows, it's that psychopaths and boredom don't mix. "Jim, there is no one that needs killing right now. Why don't we do something else? A film maybe?"

"Boring."

John rolled his eyes. Jim was always up for a film. It was one of the things John loved about him. But of course he would think they were boring now.

"What about the carnival?" In the back of his mind, he thought he had heard something about the carnival being in one of the parks not far from here.

Jim's eyes lit up. "The Carnival? You are brilliant, pet," he grinned, leaning forward to kiss John, who gladly returned it. "Obviously not brilliant like me, but still, brilliant. I used to go to the carnival with my mum and dad. It was great fun. Candy floss and rides. They loved it too. Until the accident."

Jim never spoke about his parent's accident and John knew better then to ask. For all John knew, the people Jim talked about never existed. Sherlock was the dominate personality and try as he might, John could not picture Mummy Holmes taking a young Mycroft and Sherlock to the carnival. Or they did exist and Jim had them killed. Or they exist and live happily in Ireland unaware that they have a psychopath who believes himself to be their son. There were so many possibilities, he really ought to ask Mycroft one of these days.

"Then it's settled. The carnival. Grab your coat." John breathed a sigh of relief. So far, he had managed being Jim's assassin and lover for over a year without having to kill anyone. Part of it was because Jim was rarely around but mostly it was that John was very good at distracting him, even if it took every means he had at his disposal.

Unlike Sherlock who took a cab everywhere, Jim insisted on walking which was just fine with John. It was a lovely summer day in the middle of the week. The crowds were thin and the sun was warm. They walked side by side while Jim ranted about Sherlock Holmes, his greatest rival. John feared the day the two were supposed to meet. How would that work when they occupy the same body?

The carnival was rather deserted which both agreed was preferred. Jim hated "ordinary" people and John hated when he had to keep convincing Jim not to blow them up.

"Candy floss first!" Jim declared running off ahead. Rolling his eyes, John followed after him. It was like babysitting a serial killing 5 year old.

After Jim had his treat, John won a couple prizes at a shooting booth. The sight of him shooting a rifle got Jim a bit hot and bothered, so they spent several heated minutes behind the fun house, struggling to maintain their composure enough not to strip each other nude then and there.

As they made their way through the fairgrounds, Jim turned to look at him, "Pet, you haven't picked anything. What would you like to do?"

"Actually, the roller coaster looks pretty fun. You up for it?" John loved thrill rides as a kid and actually went out of his way to find the scariest ones he could while stationed overseas.

It was Jim's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course I'm up for it. Lead the way."

They purchased their tickets and were even seated at the front of the car, John's favourite place on a coaster. The car took off down the track and John smiled at the familiar burst of adrenaline when they started climbing the hill.

Halfway up, he glanced over at Jim, surprised to see a rather sickly tone to his normally flawless skin. "Are you alright, love?" John asked, concerned.

"Turns out, pet, that I was not 'up for it' as it were," Jim groaned as the roller coaster hit the peak.

The unbecoming scream coming from his lover's mouth unnerved John almost as much as the fact that it stopped halfway down the hill when the madman fainted. John spent the rest of the ride torn between concern and amusement. Who knew that all you needed to bring the famed Jim Moriarty to his knees was a small train on a fast track? If only he could tell Sherlock….

The train soon slowed and John managed to wake the man who was currently slumped over the safety bar. "Are you alright, love? Are you okay?"

Those pale blue eyes looked up at him, blinking into the sunlight. "Of course I am, John. Why do you ask?" Sherlock sat up and looked around. "And why are we on a roller coaster?"

John did is best to hide his grin, as he was always happier when he was with Sherlock and it had been far too long. "It was for a case, don't you remember? You wanted to see if the bruises left by the roller coaster security bar on someone who was passed out matched the victim from that last case. You had me drug you so that you could experience the affect for yourself."

Sherlock blinked a few times but seemed to accept the explanation and John thanked whoever was looking out for him that he was able to think quickly and lie like a pro, especially to Sherlock Holmes. "Well, I think we have all the data we need, don't you, John? We should go back to Baker Street so I can examine the bruises as they develop."

John took Sherlock's hand as they climbed from the car. "Sounds lovely. Mind if I help?"

"Oh, I expect nothing less," Sherlock smiled as he led their way back home.


End file.
